My Thoughts On Ghost Writing

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My Thoughts On Ghost Writing

One of the first things I learned as a writer is that if you can’t do it yourself, don’t fucking do it. Yes, it’s really that simple, at least for me.

Walk into any bookstore and you will find millions of books. Sadly, many of them are not written by the person whose name is branded on the cover.

I am NOT talking about the people who have their name and then, underneath their name in smaller print it says “With…” That’s not truly ghost writing, but in some instances it can be. A lot depends on things that are generally discussed behind closed doors. Most people will never admit to using a ghost writer, even if they do.

One example I constantly get asked about is Brandi Glanville, who I absolutely adore. If you’ve read either of her books, while secondly credited to Leslie Bruce as a writer, you can tell that it’s Brandi’s voice. She has gone on record saying that Leslie helped put her thoughts into a cohesive manner, helped talk her out of certain things, and that her editor helped even further, but that everything else was all her. Leslie has gone on record saying the exact same thing. Her book agent, Michael Broussard, has also publicly stated that it is indeed her work. I don’t, for a single second, doubt this to be true. In other instances, with other people, I DO doubt the validity of their claim because I know for a fact that they handed someone else some notes and got their name published as the sole person involved with what is clearly a shit-ton of work, without so much as crediting the person who did the actual work.

I am not a fan of the ghost writer. The concept itself annoys the shit out of me. Why the hell would I pay someone else to do what I am personally talented and capable of doing myself? I wouldn’t.

I see ads all the time. “Ghost writer wanted for….”, and then I see what people are willing to pay. It is not uncommon, especially with e-books. One person wanted a 250 page Sci-Fi story done in ten days or less, not just written perfectly, but completely edited as well. Not only did they want to take full credit for it, asking you to sign a waiver absolving yourself of any involvement whatsoever, but they were only willing to pay $30 to whomever would take the job. Do you know how insulting that is to a writer of quality?

If you’re a ghost-writer and it has been, or is, profitable for you, then good luck & God Bless, but I think it’s important for young writers not to allow themselves to get caught up in this idea.

Don’t ever give your hard work away for free, and don’t ever let someone else take credit for the work that you do.

Don’t toil for hours, days, weeks, months, or years and allow someone else to be the one signing those books at a book signing. Write your own material, even if it DOES take you years to accomplish. Pour your soul into it, that will show the reader something about you. Don’t fall into a cookie-cutter mold of what you THINK you should be writing, saying, or thinking. Dare to be original. Dare to be yourself. Dare to dream and inspire.

If you allow yourself to be the writer of your own work, you also become the writer of your own destiny. Isn’t that what life is all about?

copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

Self-Control

Like most people, I have neighbors. The ones in question bought their home over a year after I did and then did an extensive remodel to the interior because the previous owner had allowed her kids to punch holes in the walls, etc., so they didn’t move in until after it was finished. We were on friendly terms, until they pulled an utterly vile stunt on me this past Spring.

I’m a very direct person. If you have something to say to me, just say it. However, I’m dealing with assholes who prefer to smile in my face and go behind my back and file bogus complaints against me to the township. One day we’re friendly, but they’re acting very, VERY odd. I immediately know something is up. Intuition is a beautiful thing.

A few days later, I get a letter in the mail from my township with the accusatory complaint, complete with a nearly $2000 fine, if memory serves me correctly.

Long story short, I cleared everything up with the township. They were PISSED. They pull up to my home like they’re going to discover I’m the female Dexter Morgan and there are bodies in the back yard, or that my suburban home is actually a raging crack den, only to discover that there is no issue on site whatsoever. Six people came in three different cars, five of whom left after less than five minutes. They couldn’t run off fast enough, they had just brought out “experts” and had wasted precious time. The other stuck around to apologize for having to come out at all, but I understand that bizarre complaints (They filed THREE, all different, all completely heinous.) require being looked into. That’s not his fault, he’s just doing his job. Besides, he was perfectly polite and lovely to deal with from day one, until things were finally handled due to scheduling conflicts a few months later.

Fast forward to right this minute. I am working, as I usually do around this hour, when I hear the noise of a leaf blower. It’s driving me fucking crazy, so I go over to a window towards the front of my house to see who it is and how close they are to me physically because I can barely pull a cohesive thought out of my brain from the noise. I had already seen my one awesome neighbor out blowing leaves, and since he is the one that does all of my landscaping, I sort of assumed he had come across the street, as he normally does. It would have been annoying even still, but completely acceptable. I like him. Moreover, I respect him, and I don’t feel uncomfortable with him on my property. Unfortunately, I immediately notice that he is across the street washing his car, and my crazy next door neighbor is on my front lawn blowing all of the leaves off of her property ONTO MINE. Yeah.

After watching this for a while, and seeing that she’s blowing leaves further and further onto my property, where MY leaves already lay, I start silently contemplating the length of my prison sentence for braining her. Suddenly she looks up and notices that I’ve caught her in the act. She smiles, like we’re friends. I go off in search of my hammer, thinking it won’t be hard to find something a little more dangerous so she understands I’m actually serious.

I have not spoken a word to this woman since the end of March. I was pulling out of the driveway one day while she was coming home. She waved. It took everything in me not to press the automatic button for my window and tell her to go fuck herself. Instead, I said something extremely unflattering in Russian, to myself, and left.

Occasionally, I say hello to her husband and he says hello to me. All things taken into consideration, I am almost certain he is unaware that she filed those complaints. However, they’re married, so both of their names are attached. I don’t blame him, because he’s a puppet. And by puppet, I mean he’s outside, right now, bagging up the leaves she just blew to kingdom come, as she yells at him about the proper way to do said task. I don’t talk to men that way, unless it’s my brother, and that’s mostly because he’s only paying attention to 1/100th of a conversation at any given moment.

Not for a single fucking second do I think she is doing a kind deed. She’s got to know she’s in deep shit with me. Alas, not everyone has my I.Q., so maybe she DOES think she is doing a good deed. Is it wrong that I have half a mind to go outside and tell her she has three seconds to get off my property before I call the cops?

The last time I checked, my leaves are MY responsibility. When they are removed, they are generally done all in one shot. I still have to wait for the rest of the leaves to fall, and they haven’t, so why would I stand out in the bitter cold on a Saturday doing something that will have to be done again in a week or two? I wouldn’t.

How am I sure it’s not a genuine act of generosity? The woman is a shrew, and she’s anal retentive. She mows her lawn 2-3 times a week all Spring and Summer, like a psychopath. If you just did it Friday night, chances are, unless we had a lot of rain, it doesn’t need to be done again on Sunday morning. Simply put, my leaves annoy her. She has nothing better to do and she wants all the other neighbors to see that she’s tackling leaves from a tree that is 100% on my property, not on hers. Her trees are baby trees, they maybe have 100 leaves a piece to spare, if that. The big tree out front on my property probably has five figures worth of leaves, if not more. It’s enormous, I don’t doubt that’s a very strong possibility.

God help me, I want to hurt this woman. Not just for her evil deeds of this year, but for deigning to cross from her side of the fence to mine, where she is completely and utterly NOT welcome or invited. I have half a PMS mind to wait until next week while they are both at work and blow every single fucking leaf off of my property and dump them into her back yard. Yes, I’ve seriously considered this. Would I really do it? I think it depends on how much further she pushes my buttons today.

Why can’t she watch television or get a hobby that requires her to mind her own fucking business? And really, what sane person blows someone else’s leaves for nearly two hours?!

copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author’s Note: I am the epitome of polite with impeccable manners, until you screw with me. If I cannot respect you, I cannot be nice to you.

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Retailers Should Really Be Ashamed Of Themselves

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Retailers Should Really Be Ashamed Of Themselves

October hadn’t even ended and the few stores I walked into were full of Christmas trees, decorations, candy, and “special, early shopper prices”. I hate this time of year.

I don’t do Christmas. You will not find green & red anywhere in my home and you most certainly will not see a tree, lights, tinsel, et al. I won’t even “celebrate” it at someone else’s home. I celebrate Chanukah (Kuddos to Target for the most awesome Chanukah decor. I could easily have bought all of it, it was truly beautiful stuff. The nicest I have seen in years.) & Yule. Chanukah is centered around family, treats, sweets, and the miracle of oil lasting for eight nights, instead of one. If you don’t know the story of the Maccabees, Google it. I can probably look forward to a box of much wanted books, but I do not expect anything else on the gift front.

Yule is the Winter Solstice. It’s also the day I buried my father, so it’s hard on me. The two holidays coincide this year, but because I’m having an especially rough year I am not doing gifts for anyone, including myself. This has been my commandment of the past two years: Don’t spend money on anything extra that is not truly necessary. I’ve done well.

Every retail outlet in America will have you believing you need new EVERYTHING, and that you need it all RIGHT THIS SECOND. Between TV’s, computers, cell phones, tablets, and a plethora of other gadgets, billions of dollars will inevitably be spent no matter what. I know way too many people who spend thousands of dollars they don’t have on gifts for everyone and their Great-Uncle, and they don’t even like 9/4’s of the people they’re giving gifts to, they simply feel obligated. When their credit card statements arrive in January, they are filled with shame, remorse, and the simple fact that they are now seriously in debt, and for what?!

I’m more of a gift card kind of gal. I like choosing my own gifts, unless you’re going to Sephora, in which case, you can’t go wrong on anything (I’m joking, sort of.), but when it comes to giving, I like to do something for a person that they probably wouldn’t do for themselves. I don’t ever put a price tag on my best friends, God-daughter, or my Aunt. With my brother, I do have to limit him into a reasonable category because he always asks me for insane things. I don’t remember what I got him last year, but I do know he got exactly what he wanted/asked for, and that I spent next to nothing because I found both items on eBay for a steal. It DOES pay to shop around for the best price.

I really enjoy the quality and uniqueness of gifts on Etsy. I have bought everything from hand-crafted jewelry, sugar scrubs, and laptop cases, all the way to homemade fudge & plants for my Aunt’s garden, and pretty much everything has been great. Several pieces of jewelry were for me, and I wear them religiously. I bought an amazing leather wallet one year, and I love it to pieces. It’s got a great rock ‘n’ roll edge to it that makes it so unique looking. I’m not the least bit embarrassed to pull it out of my purse. I highly recommend doing a very thorough search of that site if you want items that are unique and affordable. Most people are taking orders now in advance of the holidays to guarantee timely delivery, and I understand that because they’re one person businesses. That’s different.

Retailers are disgustingly greedy, and yes, people need their retail jobs, I respect that, but none of us need to go running to any of those stores on Thanksgiving Day and be taken away from our families/friends. The employees themselves should also be home with their families, not running to work the very same night to “prep the store” for a pre-Black Friday opening. It gets worse every year, and it makes me sick.

This year I’ve decided to buy of all my normal stuff in advance at Walmart. Basically, that means all of my paper products, garbage bags, and 8 bags of cat litter. This will help me avoid anything there, short of the pharmacy, during all the crazy madness.

If you’re giving gifts this year, give from your heart. I’d rather receive something a person has made (craft stores are AWESOME!) than an after-thought they grabbed while trying to trample over 20 other people. The only thing I asked for this year is a scarf. I do have a nice one that (sort of) matches my coat, but I’d like something in grey. I’m allergic to wool, so this should be a fun little search in an attempt to not get sick this Winter. Perhaps I will even find a matching hat. However, the only thing I truly WANT is my health (and prosperity).

Nothing on this planet is more important than one’s health. Without it, you cannot do any of the things you want to do, should do, or need to do. Without it, you forever feel like you’re living on borrowed time. There’s nothing inside any retail store that can restore it, so consider this closely.

I know a lot of people forgo their regular “diets” during the holidays because they want to enjoy everything offered to them. There’s a reason the word “die” is in “diet”. I’m a firm believer in balance. I’m also not subjected to countless gatherings and parties, so “holiday weight” is not an issue for me. January is not my “It’s time to get back to the gym.” resolution, which most people only manage to keep up with for a few weeks, or a month, tops. I do consider which vitamins I should be taking, if there’s anything new that might physically increase my health and resistance to illness, and I try to make small changes that can make meals healthier and tastier, but all in all, I don’t obsess much. The past two years have shown me that the simplest things can be the most delicious things, and that it’s perfectly okay to have the 2nd cupcake.

So, while retailers throw everything and the kitchen sink at you in order to get you into their stores right away, consider yourself, your families, your budgets, and make a stand in advance. If you started early, good for you. If you’re strictly doing Cyber Monday, you’re probably better off. If you’re hitting the stores to chase down bargains, do so carefully and safely, and make sure you keep all your receipts, just in case.

Personally, I’m going to be un-subscribing from every single retailer that sends me an early shopping e-mail starting today. I’m utterly sick of the bullshit, but hey, that’s me. We’re all entitled to how we feel in regards to all of this meshugas. (If you don’t know what that means, Google it. Yes, that’s one of the languages I speak.)

copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Never Do A Single Thing…

“Never do a single thing in the anticipation to prove something to someone who has hurt you. If someone has hurt or offended you (whoever that person may be), never perform anything or strive for anything in your life with the mind of proving something to that someone/ to those people. May nothing that you do be done with any thought of them in mind. There is nothing that needs to be proven.” ―C. JoyBell C.

Anger Management

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For about six years, I’ve diligently tried to work on my personal anger issues. It took me on an interesting journey. I learned so much about myself that I was a little astounded by the epiphany I had several months ago.

During all of the time where I walked away from arguments and fights, kept my mouth shut, disengaged from negativity, discussed how I felt in therapy, and then took all of that knowledge into my daily life, I lost something big. There is a fine line between taming an issue, working on yourself for betterment, and changing yourself to accommodate other people. That fine line is where you completely lose the unique aspect that makes you, YOU.

Somehow, all the “this is how you handle this situation” crap turned me into some kind of tame pet. Therapy only skims the surface, depending on the therapist. It changes you if you allow it, but what if the core of who you are didn’t truly need changing? Again, the result is being turned into a a tame pet, a person who no longer reacts intensely to anything or anyone. Somewhere along the line, my “on” button was turned “off” almost completely.

A very common misconception with me is that I am “sweet” and“nice”, which somehow loosely translates to “passive”. I’m not. Not on any count. However, I’d allowed therapy and the tools I had learned there to take the fiercer aspects of who I am away. I’d become less apt to say “Fuck you.” and more apt to say nothing. There’s only so much you can hold in before you lose it. A few months ago, I LOST IT. However, in the loss, I also gained.

Sometimes you have to be reminded of exactly who you are and what you’re capable of. You need those reminders, otherwise life becomes monotonous and you have no answers or problem-solving abilities. You’re so wrapped up in being a tame pet, that you forget how fierce you are. You forget all the things you have done, and continue to do. It’s an easy mistake, and easily corrected.

I think therapy is good if you truly need it for very serious issues. I thought my anger WAS a very serious issue, but therapy taught me that I was angry at the right things and the right people, that the anger was not self-directed. However, it did turn me into something I am not, and in many respects, I’m glad to no longer be going weekly, even though I still feel I had finally found someone great. Maybe in the future, I will return.

But for now, what you read is what you get. This is who I am. I might not have a vicious reaction to everything and everyone, I don’t usually break out the “bitch card”, but I am fully capable of being a complete version of myself now. I’ve been reminded that it’s okay to honor my emotions and be myself. It takes nothing away from me to be angry at the right time, directing it at the right person, and not allowing it to BE me.

Generally, I’m not an angry, hateful, mean person. If you push me, I will unleash my wrath, but generally, I’m pretty laid back. Intense, yes. Fierce, absolutely. I can’t sit and be a tame little bunny, I have to be me.

From here on out, if something is going on in my life, no matter how good or bad, I feel capable of handling it. I was always capable of handling it, I simply needed to be reminded that I’m lethal.

Mess with me, and the poison flows. Stay on my good side, and you will receive loyalty and respect. It’s probably easier for everyone to stay on one side, as opposed to the other. I’ve noticed recently that I’ve become a little more fierce than usual, but I’m accepting of that. In fact, I now fully see that there’s nothing wrong with it.

Looking in the mirror each day and being the absolute best version of yourself is, above all else, the most important thing you can do.

Honor yourself and honor those in your life. Be you, be untamed, be honest, be real, don’t be a fucking pet!

copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Right Now

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Sometimes, the most important thing I need is silence. Having finished that hellacious read-through, I am glad to be able to be done with it and be able to put it behind me. One of the most important things I have learned about reading a truly raw manuscript is that as a writer, I truly know what works and what doesn’t. This particular client seems to only want people to kiss his ass and tell him how fabulous his work is. I have to be honest. There were some well-written parts on the character end of things, but mostly I felt like someone had handed me half of a book, or maybe even a third of it, and said “What do you think of this? I want lots of feedback.” All I could think at the end was “What the fuck did I MISS here?!” I later learned he’d hired several other people to read different sections of the book, as opposed to hiring ONE person to read the entire book. Yeah, that’s more than half-assed to me, but whatever. Not my monkeys, not my circus.

Since that job came to a close, it’s given me some time to respond to e-mails and look over my own manuscript. I sat here earlier reading the first few chapters and was so immersed in the story, I forgot who’d written it. That is the mark of a great story teller. If I can completely forget it’s my own work, I have done something really special. I saved some extra bits I wrote, and exited the program with a smile on my face.

In a completely non-arrogant, non-cocky way, these past two jobs have shown me that I am not a hack. I’m experienced, I have talent, and I know how to put a story together. Yes, some people write their first book and totally knock it out of the park, and others write in different genres for YEARS before they ever write their first book. I think the most important thing is that I see who I am now, very clearly, and I’m proud of that person, that writer. I have grown. I’ve exceeded my own expectations, and that’s truly something special.

I look forward to what each job brings me in terms of self-awareness because I might be helping other writers polish their work, but what I’m really doing is shining my own diamond. I’m proud of book one, and I am proud of the progress I am making on the other books as well. The fact that a few months ago, I was questioning my own progress, education, experience, and writing ability seems so ridiculous to me.

No, I didn’t go to Harvard to “be a writer” (Harvard was NEVER my dream.), but I’m also not lacking in anything. Everyone’s journey is different, and that’s okay. People can criticize me, and they can say what they will, but at the beginning and end of each day, I know who I am.

I’m many things, but in the grand scheme of it all…I AM A WRITER. Color me discovered! 

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copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

Let Your Voice Be Heard

If you’re voting today, get to the polls and let your voice be heard. I generally do an absentee ballot because I am not always home or available on Election Day and I like to get it in early.

Honestly, I have no genuine interest in this particular election. It’s all about deciding which snake you’d like to get in bed with, and it’s incredibly unappealing, unless, perhaps, you love snakes. I don’t.

Here’s hoping that wherever you live, the right people get elected and they don’t cause too much trouble. One of my cousins is in politics and I agree with maybe a handful of the bills she has written into law. It’s a good thing I no longer live in the same state though. There are certain things that women piss me off over when they get political about it. Don’t get me wrong, a man might piss me off just as much, but women should simply know better. Yes, I realize that’s asking a LOT of one gender. That’s precisely why we vote: To make sure the issues that are important to us are covered in some small way.

If you don’t live in the U.S. and today isn’t Election Day for you, be glad. It’s absolutely vicious out there! No one quite hurls insults like a bunch of politicians or people that despise them.

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Coming Out Of The Ancestral “Closet”

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Coming Out of The Ancestral “Closet”

I find it more than a little appalling that in 2014, I am still being asked “What are you?” Not “What religion are you?” or your average, inappropriate social questions, which, by my standards, are still rude. No, it’s always been “What ARE you?”, with such profound emphasis, as if I am my own species. It’s become ridiculous, and as we’ve established, I am not a patient woman.

Growing up in New York City; a small, fair skinned, dark blue eyed, dark haired child, I was utterly adorable. I have pictures to prove it. My peaches & cream complected, blonde, hazel eyed mother was very clear in my genes, but so was my olive skinned, raven haired, dark brown eyed father. I was clearly a genetic mix of my parents and maternal Grandparents. For years, my eyes had that perfect Asian up-tilt, a gift of my Tribal Siberian and Mongolian ancestry, something that I now enhance with carefully applied eyeliner when I have the patience to do so. I was about six years old when they changed in color from dark blue to hazel. It normally doesn’t take such a long period of time for a child’s eye color to change.

Where am I going with this? Well, I will tell you. I’ve known for about 8 years now that I am indeed part Latina. I have absolutely no reason to hide it or not discuss it if it comes up in conversation, especially now that Spain and Portugal are allowing Jews to return for citizenship. I have to say, I was very sorely tempted to pack my bags and leave.

Growing up, everyone assumed I was either 100% Puerto Rican or 100% Italian. I am neither. In fact, I’m not 100% anything. I am so blended, I should have my own flag. My Latina roots come from Spain (Zaragoza) and Argentina (Buenos Aires).

Several months ago, while filling out some forms I checked the Caucasian box, as I’ve done my entire life, and followed up with Hispanic on the second portion of the form. It is truly the first time I’d ever done it, but I simply felt like not putting it down was to lie, and it bothered me, so I checked the box proudly. The woman handling the paperwork looked at me immediately and said “You’re Sephardic?!”, with such utter disbelief as she looked at the color of my skin and eyes, that I glanced up briefly from filling out the forms and said “I am Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Russian Siberian, and Jewish Asian.” In truth, that’s not even the half of it, but it was short and to the point. I didn’t owe her an explanation of my lineage, but I’d be damned if I was going to be treated any differently.

Really, why the hell does anyone give a shit?! Why did she? I later found out that as an immigrant to this country, she did not want anyone knowing she was Sephardic. I was slightly astounded, but anyone who is at an age where their Grandparents or parents may have died during the Holocaust is probably still hiding what they are. Having been born here, I suppose I do not feel the need to hide. I’ve never felt the need to do so, not ancestrally or religiously.

People tend to forget that Latinas come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some are blonde and blue eyed, some are more like me, and others are dark haired, dark eyed, and always look naturally tan. I cannot tan to save my life, and since I detest sun damage and the sun on a whole, I religiously wear sun protection. Some of us speak Ladino, Yiddish, Spanish, Portuguese, or older versions of various languages. Some of my cousins, also Sephardic, speak French (My brother does, I do not.). I grew up in a bilingual home, my closest family friends did too, and they all spoke Spanish. I spent years studying other languages, and am now teaching my brother Italian, Russian, Ukrainian, and Spanish. I understand languages I don’t speak, but I base that on the fact that some of them are incredibly similar. I have been trying to learn Swedish for a couple of years now. Not for any other reason than I think it’s beautiful when spoken. Welsh is next on my list.

I’m a great observer of others, but I try very hard not to judge people based on race or religion. Everyone is an individual. If you treat me like shit, I am not going to judge your ethnic background for that, just you. If you treat me well, I’m not going to automatically assume that everyone like you will show the same kindness and respect.

I have friends from all walks of life, and I accept and respect them for their individuality. I don’t care where a person is from, so long as we treat each other with respect and courtesy. Most of the people in my life who are closest to me are not American born or American citizens (though I can now say for a fact that more are). Two of my best friends are Israeli and German. My boyfriend holds dual citizenship. He is Welsh born, returns to Wales several times a year to visit older relatives, but is not an American citizen. His parents and siblings are not American citizens either, but they’re some of the loveliest people, and to me, that’s all that matters.

I have a friend who, for damn near our entire friendship, would openly declare herself Hispanic “From SPAIN!”, she’d tell people loudly. She’s also part Cherokee, which shows. Honestly, it doesn’t matter, but now that our friendship has declined so badly, I have noticed more and more that she is embracing the fact that her ancestry is actually Mexican. It’s always been pretty evident to me, but would I ever have said a word to her about it? No. That’s disrespectful. That’s like catching me on a dumb day and then pointing out that I have some Polish ancestry. It’s rude and it’s not something you say or do.

I think what bothered me the most about her saying it so often is that people would ask her if she was Hawaiian, saying that she looked “exotic”, and I’d then think of Stefanie, one of my best friends, who is Native Hawaiian. There’s a definite difference, not just in looks, but in so much more. She is not simply born and raised there, you can see her Hawaiian and Japanese ancestry in her hair, eyes, skin, and beauty. It shines like a beacon. Her Italian mother, we often joke, barely got a gene in. Between her and her siblings, she is the one who most looks like her father’s side of the family. For the previously aforementioned friend, ancestry and honoring it is clearly a big issue, so I never, ever tried to make her feel uncomfortable, nor did I ever press her on it. I feel it is something to honor and show respect, not hide from or deny, but that’s me and my otherworldly view since I’m still being asked “What ARE you?”

The next time someone says that to me, I might very well declare myself a vampire, purchase a really cool pair of colored contacts from Italy, and not say a word to anyone ever again, until the sun sets. Stupid questions deserve stupid answers, do they not?

So, this is me. Part Latina. Owning it, not ashamed, remembering to use my Spanish instead of forgetting that I can speak it, completely unconcerned if my honoring it bothers someone else. It’s my genes, my ancestry, and if you’ve taken issue with it, fuck off!

“Coming Out Of The Ancestral ‘Closet’” is copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC., and was originally published on July 7th, 2014. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.